


Series of Music

by KBZ



Category: Eyeshield 21
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Getting Together, M/M, Romance, Songfic, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:41:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23426419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KBZ/pseuds/KBZ
Summary: ShinSena drabbles ranging from romance, to fluff, to friendship, to hurt and comfort, to gen. Requests open :)
Relationships: Kobayakawa Sena & Shin Seijuurou, Kobayakawa Sena/Shin Seijuurou
Comments: 32
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is being transferred over from ff.net btw!

**Youngblood**

Seijuro had never felt the thrill like tonight, a rare surge of _something_ coursing through his veins, making his movements quicker and sharper. He felt his fangs start biting at his lower lip.

He’d found his victim for tonight. A small dark haired nobody, pale and alone. But his blood beckoned, and his innocent face smiled back at him without a worry.

Seijuro felt a twinge of regret.

**26**

It was stupid oath that they had made at three in the morning during a sleepover in their early teens. Seijuro wouldn’t have dared ask something so embarrassing at any other time. Sena was playing video games and crushing Seijuro at them. Seijuro was awful and couldn’t press the right buttons half the time, but he had fun anyway.

Sena rolled over, laughing at Seijuro’s technologic incompetence, and Seijuro was struck by the thought that ‘this is nice.’

“If we haven’t married by the time we’re twenty-six, would you want to marry me?” Seijuro asked. They were only thirteen and twelve, and that number seemed so far off.

“What?” Sena looked at him shrewdly as if it were a joke. “Are you serious?”

“I’m always serious.” Seijuro’s heart was beating fast, and he was thankful the room was dark. He thought he was blushing. He didn’t usually blurt things out like that.

“Well, okay then,” Sena said, resuming their game. That was another thing Seijuro liked about Sena. He could more or less roll with the punches in his own way.

Eventually Sena moved away, as life happened. They still kept up a correspondence through letters and emails, but Seijuro ended up forgetting about their promise anyway. Until years later, he opened his door one late December evening. Standing in the snow was Sena.

“Uh, hey Seijuro,” Sena grinned bashfully. “Today’s my birthday.”

“I sent you a card in the mail,” Seijuro said, stunned. “I didn’t know you’d be stopping by.”

“It was kind of a sudden thing. I don’t know if you remember… all those years ago, what we said? I’m twenty-six today.”

The memories all came rushing back, and Seijuro again felt that thrill of asking, and the contentment of Sena saying yes, and then he was brought back to the current moment as Sena stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Seijuro.

“Do you want to get married?” Sena asked. It was like they had picked right back up from where they left off.

“Yes,” Seijuro said.

**Goosebumps**

Shin was always so stoic, but his gaze wasn’t void – it was intense and dark and probing. On the field, Sena could always make out Shin’s deep-set eyes looking intently at him over the other players. The first time, Sena had been terrified – knowing that Shin’s tackles would hurt immensely. He was still partially scared. That was normal. It was self-preservation.

What was new, was the excitement of facing off against him. He’d feel goosebumps climb his arms and his neck hairs stand on end when he caught Shin’s gaze. That was… less normal. Sena couldn’t place it, but Shin’s gaze made him feel flustered, almost cornered. Like he was prey, and Shin was a predator.

Like he was about to be eaten.

He kept that last thought to himself, because although it wasn’t strictly ‘normal’ to feel that way, it wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

**Sober Up**

Life was difficult after university… Shin’s name wasn’t drawn for the NFL draft. Not even as a second string. He fell into a sort of daze. His whole schooling career was spent on trying to land a team. He was aware of his abilities. He was fairly confident that he would have been recruited, and yet…

Others were also shocked.

‘Did you hear? Oujou’s Shin… of all the athletes you would have thought…’

He fell into a funk. A stupor of sorts, and it lasted much longer than it should have. Years.

“Shin-san,” the voice was familiar enough, though Shin hadn’t heard it in a long time. “Shin-san is that you?”

It was Sena.

Shin blinked, and he saw in color again.

**Please Don’t Leave**

It was on the tip of Seijuro’s tongue, what he wanted to say, as he watched Sena board his flight.

Sena gave one final wave to all the other football players that had gathered to see him off to America for the student exchange program. No doubt Notre Dame would be happy to have such talent for a while.

But Shin didn’t like it. In his belly, he felt a sour heat. ‘It’s jealousy,’ his brain supplied logically. That would be the logical thing to feel, right? But he knew deep down it wasn’t that.

It was longing. Not to go in place of Sena, but to go with Sena.

**The Thoughts that Give Me the Creeps**

If Sena had chosen another school, if he had taken longer to leave his house, if he had never met Mamori, if he had never ran past Hiruma. All these what ifs, everything had conspired to where Sena was now. He clasped his football helmet tightly and got into position.

It was his last Christmas Bowl before flying off to the US, and fittingly, Deimon was in the finals against Oujou. Some said it was a vengeance game for last year, but if anything, this match up was a bittersweet remembrance. And so much had depended on so little to get where they were. All the previous choices Sena and the others had made had brought them all here.

And if things had been different…

‘My god, that thought’s insane.’ He didn’t want to psyche himself out. He focused on the play at hand, locking eyes briefly with Seijuro across him, and readied himself.

**Sweetner**

Seijuro didn’t usually have time to contemplate things too deeply. He was a busy person, and more than that, he liked keeping himself busy. But sometimes, as even the most focused people are wont to do, he thought about his life in retrospect. It was kind of… dull. Routines were good, but his left little room for anything new or enjoyable.

“Shin-san!” Sena called out. His voice was always cheery.

“Hello, Sena,” Seijuro replied, stretching out his quads. They were meeting up for their daily run.

“I got you something,” Sena held out an energy drink. “It’s sweetened with fruit, so it’s healthier. Since I know that’s really important to you.”

“Thank you,” Seijuro said, accepting the drink. Strawberry flavored. He took a sip. It was good. He smiled at Sena slightly, and Sena beamed back at him. “I like it.”

**Cold Comfort**

Seijuro hadn’t been expecting this answer when he had confessed to Sena. He’d talked with his friends, sought advice from his sister, even read some magazine articles. It all seemed so straightforward.

“I’m sorry Shin-san, I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Sena says after a long pause, hands clasped tightly on his lap as they sit next to each other at the park. “I’m going to be moving away in a few months to America, and if I start something here… I think it would just end up hurting us both, neh?”

Seijuro could only nod stiffly. “I understand. I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.” He’d known about Sena moving, and had used that to motivate his confession. His stomach feels the icy stab of being rejected, but it’s also mixed with jealousy. “Is there someone else?”

“N-No it’s not that at all! I do… I also…” Sena takes in a deep breath. “I wish I had the courage to have told you how I felt last year… maybe things could have been different that way. I’m just not in a place to have a relationship with anyone now.”

“Of course,” Seijuro says. His mouth tastes bitter with relief.

**Mind Over Matter**

Seijuro was wary of airplanes. There was a lot to be delicate with, a lot that he could break. He gripped Sena’s letter tighter as he boarded, cautious of anything and everything. But, he reminded himself, he just needed to relax and focus on what was waiting for him on the other side of the coast.

_Shin,_

_I’m really excited to hear that you’ll be visiting! It’s such a great coincidence that the football conference will be near Notre Dame. I talked with my room advisor, and they said you could spend your nights here so you don’t have to spend so much on hotels. We can also carpool together :)_

_Here’s the address, and you already have my number :)_

  * _Sena_



**Winnebago**

Before Sena’s first year at Enma, in a fit of almost-a-twenty-something anxiety, he sent out a group text about a road trip. A few of his friends were soundly in and already taking charge in planning – Marco, Yamato, and Hiruma acquiring all the funds through questionable means – while others were already planning all the locations to visit. (Julie was genuinely impressive with how many places she knew to visit.)

The most surprising RSVP, however, was Shin. Sena had questioned if it was even a good idea to invite him, knowing how strict he was, but had taken a shot anyway, and couldn’t help the surge of adrenaline when he saw Shin at the meetup with his luggage.

Mizumachi was pumping everyone up while Kakei (the only with any experience driving) suffered next to him at the wheel.

“Boarding?” Shin asked Sena.

Sena blinked out of his stupor, his blood filled with excitement and something else. There was already shrieking coming from inside the bus.

“You bet!” This would either be the best or worst decision Sena ever made, but he was ready for it.

**My Favorite Book**

After all these year of playing against each other, Sena had a baseline read on Shin. It should have made playing him easier, but Shin always came out with improved speed and strength. Instead, it helped Sena outside of the field.

Shin and Sena ran into each other a lot, too, so Sena gradually started picking more things up about Shin. They used the same spaces to train, the same routes to run, the same shops to buy protein powder. Seijuro didn’t mind running in the rain, but preferred cold weather and early morning training. He looked four ways before crossing the street. Seijuro liked blueberries and metal water bottles. He used a spearmint-scented aftershave. He rarely smiled, but he was actually a fairly positive person.

They would fall into step when running their morning route on the weekends. Sometimes, when Shin was content with the outcome of a workout, he’d look up at the sky.

Sena knew the way Shin moved, the things he said, the shift in his eyes.

One day, after a particularly good workout, Shin looked at Sena the same way he looked at the sky.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some angst, some space adventures, some fantasy, some more canon-esque moments, and some friendship in here for ya.

**Dare You (1/4)**

Shin was a man of few words, and Sena was getting sick of it. Shin would put up his stoic front and become cryptic. Maybe it was Sena’s fault for confessing the way he did, but Shin had completely shut down on him after that. They still met up for their runs, but hadn’t talked about it.

“Just… just let me down easy,” Sena finally said. “If you’re not interested, I understand, but I just need to know.”

**Hard Feelings (2/4)**

“I don’t feel that way,” Shin answered. He looked at Sena with wary eyes, cautious eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Right,” Sena said. His voice cracked. “Right, okay.”

He thought about all the time he’d spent with Shin: he thought of their training, and their time on the field, and getting to know each other off of it, and all the summer afternoons seeming endless, like they had been connected with something tangible between the two of them.

Maybe he had been reading too much into their friendship, but it had been real to him.

He hadn’t realized he’d already started his trip home until he stopped in front of his front door. His heart felt weirdly heavy, but there was a calm that came with rejection.

But at least there was finality in knowing. He could move on from this, finally.

**Bunny Do (3/4)**

Sena ran through the motions of his routine the next few days. He could tell that his family and friends had noticed something was off about him. His mom took extra care in the morning when making him breakfast, his dad asked him careful questions about his day and activities, his friends shared curious glances over his shoulder when they thought he wasn’t looking, asking through eye contact ‘What happened? _When_ did it happen?’

Sena didn’t want them to see him like he was – transfixed in a loss he never thought he’d face.

“Leave him alone already for fuck’s sake,” Hiruma grunted after practice. It had been two weeks since… the Incident. Sena was still in the shower – everyone else had already migrated to the changing room – but he could make out the talking over the sound of the water. “He’s gonna do what he’s gonna do, and then get over it.”

Sena stared at his wrinkled fingertips before turning the shower off. When he joined everyone else, the talking died down briefly. No one would meet his eyes.

‘It’s time to wake up,’ Sena reminded himself. ‘Time to do what I do.’

**I’ve Been Waiting (4/4)**

Sena was so – confused. Shin had – after he’d said – and Sena’d just barely –

He wasn’t making sense even in his own mind.

“You okay, bro?” Monta asked him, already stripping off his gear. “Did Shin say something weird to you?”

‘Yes.’ “N-No, of course not,” Sena waved Monta off. His head was woozy. He faced his locker and closed his eyes, working through all the steps that had led to this one confusing moment.

Sena had confessed to Shin weeks ago. He’d been rejected. They no longer trained together after Sena couldn’t bear the awkward silences anymore. (Sena had changed his schedule to morning jogs, but it was still possible that Shin was running their same evening route which made Sena’s throat burn.) Sena had moved on past all that.

(Even though he still liked Shin a bit… liked him a lot… he was going crazy, dreaming about a touch that would never come.)

He was doing _fine_.

But then today, a gritty scrimmage against Oujou which ended in Deimon’s close loss. The sickness in Sena’s stomach wasn’t due to losing, it was due to Shin crowding him before the teams had split into their locker rooms after the match and said:

“I made a mistake before.” Shin looked as close to miserable as Sena had ever seen on him. His face was the picture of regret or guilt or some other nasty feeling. “I would like to try dating, if it’s still possible. I’ll be waiting by the bridge like always.”

The bridge was where they had met up to run before this whole mess had happened.

Sena would be lying if he said he was going to turn down Shin. He didn’t know what to expect, but Shin was everything he wanted. If he could have a taste of being together, he would.

**Spaceman (1/2)**

Shin’s mission was a simple tag and collect exploration: zip everything up in PVC bags to be experimented on once he got back to Earth. He was light years away from home, such a dizzying number of miles that he barely could wrap his head around it.

This world was similar to Earth, Shin noted. The atmosphere was barely too acidic, the clouds too dense and thick that he could walk on them, the water mostly ice. The difference was enough to keep him on edge and alerted at all times. Shin felt every mile of separation from him and Earth. The incredible loneliness of being the only human for billions and billions of miles.

“It’s not so bad,” the voice in his ear piece said. It belonged to his handler. His handler was good at his job, but he was higher strung than what would be professional. Handlers usually had soothing voices (which his handler had in spades), but he was prone to panicking and worrying over Shin, which was distracting but oddly comforting.

“It’s lonely,” Shin remarked bitterly one day. He was packing up more rock samples.

“But you have me for company,” his handler noted cheerily if cautiously.

“I suppose. It’s not the same however.” People didn’t even know how far out he truly was. When he had left the galaxy, it hadn’t even been televised due to liabilities.

“Maybe not, Seijuro,” his handler said. They weren’t supposed to use their first names to keep from being attached. (It was very likely that Shin was going to die before he returned to Earth. It was certain that his handler would die before Seijuro was even a quarter of the way done with his mission due to the time dilation.)

“You’re a rookie handler, correct?”

“Possibly… okay yes.” The handler paused briefly, before whispering, “I think it’s so cool what you’re doing. I – not to sound corny – but I really admire you.”

Shin felt his face heat up. “Thank you.”

“My name’s Sena by the way.”

“Thank you, Sena.”

“Oh, wait a second, your heart rate’s increasing. Is everything okay out there?”

Shin focused on his breathing, soothing his racing chest. He decided he felt a little less lonely. “Yes, everything is okay,” he said, and found that he wasn’t lying.

**All The Time (2/2)**

Sena kept him company every day, through every mission. It was like he was on 24/7 call. Handlers had to be, in essence. Sena had been trained to memorize every detail and fact about Shin in order to be able to help him if things went… wrong. Shin had already had one handler before, and although she had been efficient (maybe more so than Sena), it had been like talking to a robot.

Sena was full of life. He chatted at Shin’s ear about current events and interesting things he’d read, and he even kept Shin updated on his favorite sporting teams.

They avoided topics about families. Shin had been gone for… a long time. They also avoided talking about Sena’s eventual retirement. The time dilation was steep, the mathematics complicated in keeping their communication constant.

It felt like they had all the time in world when, in reality, it was the opposite. It was the one resource that was truly finite between them.

Sometimes Sena would joke about using a sustained sleeping chamber and waiting for Shin’s return. Shin would chuckle ruefully, careful not to indulge in those thoughts. 99% of astronauts sent on his types of missions did not return alive.

But, for the time being, he listened to his handler talk quietly in his ear and pretended he wasn’t alone.

**Holiest**

A flurry of doves fluttered before the priest’s silken robes. His eyes were dark and liquid and determined. He held prayer beads between nimble fingers.

Seijuro knew this was the only option. Inside him was a beast – a monster that hungered for blood and pain and hedonistic pursuits. He wondered if the little priest would be any use, but his power was whispered upon. The white magic he used, the spells he prayed, the rituals he followed. Hallowed, powerful, pure.

The monster inside Seijuro rumbled at the sight. He hoped it wasn’t too late for himself. He’d been living possessed for so long he feared that there was no distinction between himself and the beast. He knew his mind had already been perverted, but he still held out hope.

“We will begin now,” the little priest said as white light swirled around his feet, approaching Seijuro.

**Blue Hundreds**

Sena and Shin dated (in their own strange way) in high school. Their friends had witnessed the most distant, intense relationship they would probably ever see.

“Are you and Shin still dating?”

Quizzical look. ‘Of course why?’

“Eh… when was the last time you guys talked?”

‘Last week, after the game.’

“And nothing since then?”

Shrug. ‘No, not really.’ Slow, dreamy smile. Lidded eyes. Red ears. ‘But I’m spending the weekend.’

“That’s more than I ever wanted to know.”

‘Not like tha~ _at_.’

Weird, both teams had agreed. Shin and Sena’s relationship seemed to fizzle out. They went to different schools, but didn’t appear to end things or define things, and their friends just assumed that had been it for the star duo. (They were wrong.)

‘It’s our three year anniversary tomorrow!’

“ _What_? I thought you two broke up when you graduated!”

‘Of course not! I l-love Shin-san.’

And yet Shin and Sena still hadn’t moved on past using last names in public. Who knew about their private life? (No one wanted to pry.)

But, their friends supposed, Sena and Shin were like volcanoes, always rising up to meet above whatever shitstorm was circulating around them. If they fell off, they’d always meet once again. They were well suited for each other, even if it was the most perplexing arrangement anyone had seen.

**Old School**

Seijuro’s parents had met in high school and married once they’d graduated. He was a little old fashioned about romance. He’d always assumed he’d find some nice girl his senior year of high school and that would be that.

He hadn’t accounted on football taking such a large role in his life come first year, but he welcomed the addition nonetheless. He figured he still had plenty of time. His second year came, and with that came higher aspirations for the team. And some rookie that went by the moniker Eyeshield 21. His younger sister had tried introducing him to one of her friends, but it was never the right time with Seijuro’s schedule becoming more involved now that he had a true rival to compete against.

Then his third year came, and football was still there, but so was Kobayakawa Sena: matching him stride for stride on the field, by his side while out on evening runs, during weekend workouts, family dinners, walks in the park. (The list of shared activities was extensive.)

Seijuro had always thought that nice girl-next-door type was just around the corner. He hadn’t accounted on finding a nice boy attending a rival school.

(They don’t get married right after high school despite the Shin’s pestering, but they do eventually get together – officially – Sena’s second year of university. Seijuro’s a patient man.)

**Sort It Out**

Through the commotion of being drafter and navigating the NFL with his less than average English, Sena ends up relying on one Shin Seijuro more than he’d thought he ever would. They understand each other more than just on a linguistic level.

Everything is different. The food. The culture. What’s considered respectful and what’s not.

“We’ll sort it out,” Seijuro tells him one day after a grueling practice. It’s a wakeup call not being the fastest or best player on the field anymore, but an almost welcome one. They’re both rookies and get benched, but their coaches see potential, eye them hopefully between drills.

Still, there’s the apprehension and anxiety.

“I feel so much pressure to perform well for everyone who didn’t get the chance,” Sena admits, placing ice packs on his sore ribs.

“I know,” Shin says simply, “I feel the same.”

The acknowledgement settles in the aching spots between Sena’s pulsing ribs and makes him feel whole.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Youngblood expansion requested by lambda.lawliet on ff.net

Seijuro had never felt the thrill like tonight, a rare surge of _something_ coursing through his veins, making his movements quicker and sharper. He felt his fangs start biting at his lower lip.

He’d found his victim for tonight. A small dark haired nobody, pale and alone. But his blood beckoned, and his innocent face smiled back at him without a worry.

Seijuro felt a twinge of regret.

A cold breeze made the streetlamps flicker. Rain was drizzling lightly, tapping at the cobblestoned streets. It was evening, just after the working class had gone home from the factories and textile mills, but still too early for nightlife to have crawled out from the bowels of the city, so the streets were somewhat empty.

Well, it was still too early for most nightlife. Seijuro preferred feeding at an earlier time than his associates.

The waif, for his part, seemed oblivious to Seijuro’s presence past their passing eye contact blocks ago. Seijuro was as good as forgotten. He shadowed the waif ten meters back. His footsteps were almost-silent from years of practice even with the rain. No doubt the youth was just walking home from working at one of the factories, following the winding roads back to his home like he did every other ordinary evening. This night, however, he would not be making it back home.

The youth turned a corner up ahead into an alley – a short cut to the impoverished residential district – and Seijuro followed with baited breath. It was dark and isolated enough for him to strike – a quick grab from behind, one hand over the mouth, the other at the neck, snapping it effectively, then plunging his dagger precisely through a spot in the neck where blood flowed freely but not wastefully, and then he would drink and be satiated until next time. He had perfected his technique over the decades of his being to minimize the pain and maximize the time he could feed before someone wandered too close to the body.

Seijuro rounded the corner. The youth was gone – his scent had _vanished_.

“You’ve been following me,” a voice like loose honey said behind Seijuro. He sounded… nervous. The scent was back, muted, but just as savory-sweet as before. Pressed against Seijuro’s back was what felt like the business end of a wooden stake. How had the scent vanished?

Seijuro had been in these kinds of situations before when he’d been a fledgling, and he’d faced far more experienced hunters and come out alive.

“What do you plan to do with that?” Seijuro asked, lacing his voice with deep charm. He turned his head a bit to glance over the youth but stopped when the stake pressed harder against him, over his kidney now.

Between the unbuttoned lapels of the youth’s white shirt hung a thin silver crucifix on a plain chain. His threadbare jacket had inner pockets where other charms were most likely hidden. He seemed no older than a child, which begged the question: where had he acquired his equipment?

“You’ve been terrorizing my neighborhood,” he said. He was young indeed, Seijuro noted. His voice trembled. The stake at Seijuro’s back was shaking. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you don’t leave this area immediately.”

“This is my territory,” Seijuro turned slowly, testing the waters with this rookie. The stake pressed firmly against him again, so he stilled, but his plan had worked. He was almost fully facing the waif. “Where are you asking that I should feed instead?”

“Well – I – _not here_ ,” the waif faltered. His scent was growing stronger – that irresistible aroma which had Seijuro’s fangs on edge.

“May I get your name?”

The youth looked at him cautiously, “Why?”

“I will inform others of my kind to avoid this area due to a hunter. Due to you.”

“Right…” The waif’s eyes had glossed over. It had been too late for the youth the moment their eyes had locked in the market. “My name… Sena…”

“A beauty like the moon,” Seijuro said, “fitting.”

“P-Pardon?” Sena said, his eyes blinking away the stupor just as Seijuro lunged forward, unable to resist himself any longer. Sena’s blood _keened_.

Seijuro felt his dagger pierce through Sena’s abdomen at the same time he felt the stake gouge through his oblique. The pain searing through his flesh wasn’t enough to stop his momentum, and he fell forward, landing heavily atop Sena, whose small frame couldn’t bear the both of them upright.

Seijuro had acted on impulse for the first time in ages. He scrunched his eyes in concentration as he tried to lift himself up to finish the job.

“No…” whispered Sena’s honey voice. It had an edge of hysteria. “Get off of me! _Get off_!”

Seijuro looked down, understanding even before he had seen confirmation, to see his blood dripping inside Sena’s wound.

The catalyst of the changeling process.

Just beyond the alley, Seijuro heard the commotion of the beginnings of a crowd approaching closer.


	4. Chapter 4

**Wolf Song**

When Seijuro heads out the door to the hospital every day, he grabs his keys, wallet, and phone. His keys he keeps in hand, his phone clips onto his belt. It’s a routine he’s kept ever since graduating university. He’s a surgeon now, and he supposes he’s satisfied with his job. It’s high stress, of course, and the workload is massive, but he’s good at his job, and he helps people every day.

(He doesn’t think about not having gone pro, doesn’t dwell on his ACL tear his junior year that ended his career before it could even start.)

Instead he tries to focus on the positives, like the players who did get drafted and went on to bigger and better things and had successful professional careers. He thinks about Sena Kobayakawa a lot. (He thinks about Sena Kobayakawa like that, too – First Name Last Name.)

In Seijuro’s back pants’ pocket is his black leather wallet. And behind his ID, tucked snuggly in the inner most section, is a photograph of Sena Kobayakawa and himself, celebrating after a game during Seijuro’s junior year. It’s creased from being unfolded and folded back up so many times; the edges have fluffed up; and some parts of the image have been smudged away by fingers brushing gently against the photo.

It goes without saying that Seijuro looks at it a lot, looks at it every time he thinks about Sena Kobayakawa, and he thinks about Sena Kobayakawa a lot.

(He wonders if he is Seijuro Shin to Sena Kobayakawa, or if he is even thought about at all.)

They were close during Seijuro’s junior year, before his injury. Their chemistry was intense – in fact, it felt like their high school careers had been building to that – to finally playing together. They were formidable as a team, and their coach always urged them to spend more time together to keep building their comradery. It was easy as breathing to build chemistry with Sena. Completely painless. Seijuro even looked forward to it.

Then, of course, he tore his ACL at the end of summer.

(It was a drill they had done hundreds of times. Sena had the ball and ran a route and Seijuro ran to stop him. It was just a misstep, just his torso turning before his knee could keep up, just a slip in focus.)

Sena took him to get his surgery and to the physical therapy sessions after that, but it was tense. Even Seijuro could tell. Seijuro had voiced that Sena shouldn’t feel sorry for him, that he would gain his mobility back, and that he would be back on the field before Seijuro’s senior year, but it was no use. Sena couldn’t overcome his sadness, his pity, his _disappointment_. It was like Seijuro’s injury had cracked something between them that was unrepairable.

Seijuro remained on the team, continued physical therapy, focused on his studies, continued physical therapy, applied to medical schools, graduated, continued physical therapy, got admitted to his second choice, got invited to Sena’s graduation/draft party…

It was as the party was winding down when he had time to talk with Sena. Seijuro had simply said ‘Congratulations, Kobayakawa’. He wished he hadn’t said that. Sena’s face had crumpled, his whole body had curled into itself with that little comment. Sena had been drinking and his emotions played across his eyes vividly. Seijuro’d taken a glance back as he walked out and seen Sena dabbing at his eyes, the tip of his nose red.

Seijuro thinks about Sena Kobayakawa a lot, but he thinks about Sena always. Their training, warm summer nights spent running, Sena’s quiet laughter in the dark.

(There had been one night before his injury where Sena slept over at Seijuro’s dorm. Sena had slept over plenty of times; nothing had happened but something almost did. Sena had set his sleeping bag next to Seijuro’s futon. Their bodies were weary from shuttles and suicides and the oppressive heat from their showers. They’d collapsed to sleep for the night, but one of them had said something. Seijuro can’t remember who it was that had spoken or what was said, but it got them to both sit up. Their faces had been centimeters apart suddenly. They were sharing breath. The moon colored Sena’s face in silver except for his dark eyes that seemed like bruises against his pale skin. They remained close for a beat, two beats. Seijuro looked down at Sena’s mouth, considered it, but Sena had laughed nervously and rolled on his side before – before anything.)

(They never spoke about it because nothing had happened. But Seijuro still remembers: the heat, the moon, Sena’s eyes, his laughter.)

Seijuro still keeps up with football. Specifically, he keeps up with Sena Kobayakawa who is now retired and married. Sena Kobayakawa first retired to the European leagues when rumors had started spreading, and then officially retired when he married. Sena Kobayakawa wed a rugby player – a man with dark features and a serious face; ‘stoic’ was commonly used to describe him.

It made Seijuro think a lot about Sena.

(Seijuro wonders about that one night. He wonders about what Sena’s laugh meant, if he had been expecting anything, if he had wanted anything, if Seijuro had wanted the same.)

Seijuro is a surgeon now, and he’s been out of the football world for well over fifteen years. He follows a routine: keys, wallet, phone, and thinking, always, about number twenty-one.

**Floating**

The training camp for the World Cup was hosted by the Taiyo Sphinx mostly because of their awesome proximity to a closed-off section of the beach meant to be used by the school only. Sena was tired from his earlier training with Shin, and was ready to pass out that night when the fated words were said:

“Yo, let’s go skinny dipping!” Mizumachi was an unstoppable force when he set his mind to something, which is how the football players, managers, and cheerleaders found themselves on the pale beach in the middle of the night.

Several players seemed to have no qualms about embracing their birthday suits and taking a quick dip under the full moon. Some of the girls had also joined in, which caused Monta to faint. Sena shirked into himself, self-conscious (as usual).

“Uh, I’m going to take Monta away,” Sena said, looking at the ground to avoid seeing anything from anyone. It was dark enough that no one noticed his furious blush (probably).

“I’ll also head back,” Shin said, face impassive as always. Shin picked Monta up in a fireman’s carry, and Sena followed after, dazed.

The silence between them was awkward to say the least as they walked back.

Monta, in his half lucid state, said “I didn’t even get a chance,” before losing consciousness again.

“I don’t think I could ever build up the nerve to do it,” Sena said, feeling brave in the night.

“It seems… interesting,” Shin offered up. “I admit I was curious.”

Sena tried to keep his face composed, though this was probably the strangest thing Shin had ever said. Though now that Sena thought about it, Shin did seem comfortable with his body; in fact, Sena had seen Shin shirtless several times where a shirt _should_ have been worn (like at the barbecue buffet).

“If there weren’t so many people…” Sena mumbled. It _did_ seem interesting, but there was no way he would expose himself in front of so many ridiculously built athletes.

“It’s only us now,” Shin said as he eyed the dark waves. They had walked to a more secluded section of the beach. They couldn’t even hear the others at that point. Shin placed Monta on the ground and stripped off his shirt.

“W-W-What are you doing!” Sena shrieked even though he knew exactly what Shin was doing.

Shin paid him no mind as he kicked off his shoes and tugged his pants down. Sena smacked his hands over his eyes and whirled around. He heard a few foot steps behind him, and then more splashing. Cautiously, he peaked through his fingers as Shin’s figure entered the water. When Shin was waist deep, he turned to face Sena.

Shin remained silent, which Sena interpreted as ‘What are you waiting for, Eyeshield?’

“Okay, okay, fine,” Sena said. He folded his clothes neatly next to Monta’s sleeping face and then headed for the water.

**Stay With You**

Seijuro had lived a very sheltered and conservative life back when he’d been in high school. Entering university had turned some switch on inside of him. Seijuro was never one to take anything slow. One day he’d seen Sena as a teammate and friend, and then one day he saw more.

Seijuro trailed his fingers over Sena’s bare back, and the other hummed. They were in Sena’s dorm, but had to leave in the next thirty minutes for practice. Seijuro hooked his fingers on the waistband of Sena’s joggers and crowded close to him.

“Fifteen more minutes,” Seijuro whispered against Sena’s neck. “I want to stay with you.”

“Mm,” Sena let himself be pulled back under the covers, a smile on his face. “Okay, a little longer.”

**A Moment Apart**

Sena stepped off the train and onto a familiar platform. His bag and luggage were heavy, filled with souvenirs from America. It was sakura season now, and the petals danced in the breeze as he looked around, taking in how his surroundings had changed while he’d spent his second year in the States. Then the wind was knocked out of his lungs.

Farther along the platform, waiting for him, was Seijuro Shin. Sena spotted him first, saw Seijuro’s familiar profile. Seijuro turned to face him, and the sakura blossoms floated, seemed to pause in the air as their eyes locked. Sena saw everything play out in Seijuro’s eyes: neutral curiosity to surprised acknowledgement to delight.

Sena had only ever seen Seijuro smile a few times before, but this time a wide, true smile split across his face.

Dropping his things, Sena darted forward, and jumped into Seijuro’s outstretched arms after their moment apart.

**True Colors**

“I _like_ you,” Sena finally finished, voice tight after confessing. Shin stood in front of him, his back to the setting sun. They had just finished their evening jog, and the whole time Sena had argued with himself whether he should even say anything. His cheeks felt hot, and he couldn’t meet Shin’s eye as he added, for Shin’s benefit, “Romantically.”

He had gone over how he would word his confession over and over. He had to get everything off his chest, and he had to do it right. He knew it was highly unlikely that Shin would feel the same – Sena had been looking for signs as soon as he realized his own feelings, and he’d found none. That had been difficult to reconcile with how he felt, but he knew that he had to confess or he would go crazy.

(Sena had been confessed to before and had seen his friends be confessed to, and he knew how awkward it could be for both sides. He also knew that humiliating events like this could really bring out the worst in people. Some reacted angrily, others cried.)

(Sena was pretty sure Shin wasn’t one to cry when embarrassed, but he really hoped that Shin also wasn’t one to get angry.)

Finally, Shin spoke, “I see.” He looked to the side for a moment, and Sena already knew what the answer was. “I’m flattered, but unfortunately I cannot return your feelings.”

“Right – n-no, yeah,” Sena said, blinking rapidly and staring at Shin’s beat up running shoes.

“But I hope we can remain friends,” Shin said. His usually stoic voice had a slight gentleness to it.

“Y-Yeah, of course,” Sena said. “I’d like that, too.”

They said their goodbyes and parted ways, each heading back to their house. Sena walked back slowly, feeling lighter despite all the emotional turmoil he had subjected himself to.

He had confessed. He had been rejected. But he still had his friend.

**I Like U**

Sena’s desk was right next to a window, and he’d find himself start to daydream as he looked out at the school grounds.

Shin frequented his daydreams a lot. It made Sena feel oddly ashamed if he thought about it too long, so instead of questioning it, he just accepted it. It wasn’t like Sena thought about Shin in weird ways or anything! Nothing scandalous happened. He would just think of him and Shin, like, hanging out after track workouts.

It was stupid but – listen, Shin was literally one of Sena’s football idols, okay? Was it so crazy to want to get to know him more? Or thinking about getting ice cream after sprints on a hot summer day?

 _That_ was a popular day dream because it seemed so _attainable_. Sena imagined himself suggesting the idea and Shin agreeing to it as long as there was a low sugar option. They’d find a close-by stall where Sena would get peach ice cream, and Shin would settle for a natural-fruit popsicle, and then they’d eat together as the afternoon melted into evening.

Then Shin would walk Sena home, maybe step in for a bit to greet his parents. His mom would _insist_ on having Shin stay for dinner (“Despite that _late notice_ , Sena, honestly!”), and Shin would agree with a polite dose reluctance. Shin would sit next to Sena while they ate, but then afterwards, Shin really had to head home and couldn’t possibly continue to intrude in their residence. Maybe Sena’s mom would say that next time he should “Just spend the night since it _is_ a weekend after all”, and Sena’s dad would lightly admonish his mom for saying such a thing, but confirm that “Any friend of Sena’s is always welcome”. Sena would give Shin an exasperated look, but Shin would just shake his head as if to say he doesn’t mind, really, and maybe he would bring an overnight bag next time. Then Sena’d see Shin back out and walk with him to the gate, and Shin would say something like,

“Kobayakawa, what is your answer to number seventeen?”

Sena stood up so rapidly his chair went flying behind him. “Ehh… seventeen?” He looked down at the jumble of numbers and letters. “Eh… that would be… um, I didn’t get to it.”

“A little less day dreaming, and a little more math, then.”

“Yes, sir.” Sena sunk back into his seat, feeling flushed. He wasn’t entirely certain it was due to public embarrassment, either. He tried focusing on the text in front of him and ignoring what it would be like to have Shin sleep over. A little less day dreaming indeed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't follow my own rules when writing this one, but 1k is about the length the other chapters are, so good enough lol.

**Wasteland, Baby!**

The lake was beautiful and lush but rancid. Weeping willows dripped onto the lake’s edges. Lilies dotted the surface, milky white blossoms drooping along the water’s surface. There was no movement to the water, barely any ripples along the surface, and the air of that afternoon hung heavy with humidity and heat that swallowed around a person. The sky was a swirling mess of heavy, paunchy gray clouds.

And the water looked like black, glossy tar.

Sweat dripped between Sena’s shoulder blades, slicked his white shirt against his back and tight around his throat, as he rowed with into the center of the lake in the wooden rowboat. Sena felt like his lungs were swimming, like every breath was the struggle of a nymphalid with wet wings trying to fly. His breath came in burdened gasps, his brow knotted. His trousers were a second skin as they coiled tightly around his tensing legs. The oars were too big in his unpracticed hands, scraped against the delicate skin of his palms.

This was Sena’s third time visiting the lake by himself. _He was introduced there once before by a friend of the family – a handsome merchant that knew his father and that his mother insisted Sena show around despite the merchant knowing the area better than he himself. So the merchant had shown Sena the lake and had taken him around its perimeter in a slow walk that grew slower and slower as they approached the cover of weeping willows._

_The merchant stood out against the green and gray of the lake and the forest. His hair was vibrant red, his eyes a peculiar brown that seemed to flash crimson in the right light behind purple-tinted spectacles, his skin tanned._

_Sena was a timid thing – he’d been called boring on more than one occasion – but the merchant was dramatic enough for the both of them, spoke freely,_ touched _freely._

_“Wait,” Sena said, his eyes rabbit-wide._

_The merchant smiled good-naturedly, a gentle sigh escaping his lips, “Of course,” and took him back home, but he was gone the next morning._

_Before he left, however, he asked for Sena’s hand upon his return in a week’s time. His parents were displeased, nevertheless, with Sena’s actions but accepted on Sena’s behalf._

_The next day, Sena went to the lake again, wondering. And he found an old wooden rowboat with two oars leaning against it. It was partially obscured by thick shrubbery and a curtain of weeping willow branches. Something had driven him to row into the lake, onto that black, cryptic water, right into the middle._

_His arms felt leaden when he reached the center. It was dusk already. Around him, the greenery had been leached of its color, leaving the world in shades of gray and dusky purples. The birds had gone to sleep, the mosquitos were silent. He felt suddenly very exposed and very alone and very cold._

_There was a burble of air bubbles breaking the surface next to the rowboat, like the shattering of glass. Sena peered over the edge, dread coaxing at his throat._

_It was a man in the water. His linen shirt marbled against his body. His hair was the like the lake – black and shining and thick looking. Even in the quickly darkening night, Sena could make out his strong features and his eyes… dark, piercing, as deep as the lake itself._

_Two strong hands appeared as the man hoisted himself onto the rowboat’s edge. He leaned against his crossed arms._

_The man spoke, and Sena half expected for his breath to smell like rotted fish or rancid water, but it smelled like freshly rained earth, and the breath was cool against Sena’s cheek as the man said, “What business do you have here?”_

_So serious, so stoic, so blunt. The man was nothing like the merchant or his parents or the rest of society. It was just as refreshing as the night breeze easing through the thick summer evening._

_“I… I don’t know…” Sena shook his head lightly. His mind felt swollen by a heady scent he couldn’t place. “What’s your name?”_

_“Seijuro,” the man answered. His eyes were intense, burning, black wells that seemed to drink all of Sena up at once. Sena shivered._

_“W-what are you doing here?”_

_“You’ve already asked a question,” Seijuro said. He sounded disappointed._

_“Do I only get one question? Wait, where are you going?”_

_The man fell back into the water without a splash._

_It was so dark out now, Sena could hardly see._

_“You should leave,” Seijuro warned, and started dragging the boat back to the shore._

_“But…” Sena had nothing to say as he reached the shore and watched Seijuro dip soundlessly back into the black water._

_So Sena returned the next day, earlier, such that the sun was barely dipping. He brought bread and spreads and cheeses and fruits, and a bottle of apple wine, and a towel. The rowboat was in the same place where it was the first time, but cobwebs had been spindled across the frame and the oars as if they had been sitting there for ages untouched. Still, Sena pushed it into the water after brushing off the silver threads, his little food basket safely between his feet as he rowed out._

_He ate while he waited to hear from Seijuro. This time, Seijuro appeared at twilight with the melodic breaching._

_Sena took a breath. He had prepared what he would say. Seijuro wouldn’t eat, so Sena ate the soft, buttery bread spread sticky with preserves and gave the Seijuro the apple wine. Their fingertips brushed together when Seijuro took the wine, a cold wave of lightening so good in the midsummer heat. Sena introduced himself properly while Seijuro drank. And Sena talked about his family, and his aspirations, and what he liked and what he did not like. And Sena did not ask questions, wanting not to squander his one question. And Seijuro took it all in, his inkwell eyes half-starved for everything Sena said._

_At dusk, Seijuro said, “It’s almost time for me to go.”_

_“Why… why do you have to go?”_

_“It’s in my nature to do so,” Seijuro’s dark, impassive eyes flickered to something else briefly, “Would you like to join me this evening?”_

_“How?” Sena asked, taking the wine bottle Seijuro was passing back. Instead of letting go, Seijuro wrapped his hand around Sena’s warm hand, treading water, looking up speculatively._

_Seijuro shook his head. “Only one question,” he reminded Sena, “But you may be here at midday tomorrow,” he said simply, finally letting go of Sena’s hand as he dipped below the surface._

Lazing insects buzzed around, the odd chirping of birds. Everything sounded muddled by the heat and humidity and rank smell of the sitting water. The atmosphere itself pressed down against the lake and the forest that surrounded it, a warm, suffocating blanket made of moisture.

Sena had never felt a heat like this – it was not like this when he first came here. It seemed the water had not been so dark and thick.

Finally, Sena reached the center of the lake. He sipped from a flask of water while he waited until he heard the sound of Seijuro rising from the water, like the breaking of glass.

“What would you like to know?” Seijuro asked. There was a slight smile pulling along his lips which Sena had never seen before. It softened his face graciously.

“I want to know how we can leave together,” Sena said, anxiously bent over the rowboat’s edge, leaning against his arms like Seijuro had done the first time they met.

“We can’t do that,” Seijuro said.

Sena stopped himself from using up his one question thoughtlessly. He was worried about his family and the merchant returning and being married off and never seeing Seijuro again.

“I want us to be together,” Sena murmured.

Seijuro neared the rowboat, but he was still out of reach.

“That’s possible,” Seijuro teased. His dark eyes were looking for something, and Sena felt burned by them.

“Anything, please,” Sena said fervently.

Seijuro seemed to have found what he was looking for, and he spoke calmly as he neared the rowboat, “You know what you have to ask.”

“How can we be together?” Sena reached out, expecting Seijuro to tangle their hands, but instead Seijuro placed his cold, wet hands against Sena’s feverish cheeks.

Sena was struck by something, for this was the first time he’d seen Seijuro in full daylight: he was struck by how pale Seijuro’s skin was, the blueness of his lips, the sunken cheeks, the deep hollows beneath those black, roiling-sea eyes.

“Like this,” Seijuro said, his breath against Sena’s ear, and it smelled rancid. Sena gripped onto Seijuro’s forearms, trying to pry them off, but Seijuro’s strength was an iron anchor, and Seijuro pitched back into the water, dragging Sena out of the boat and into the water with him. It was far too late for Sena, had been far too late the first time Sena had locked sight with Seijuro’s dark eyes.

Sena struggled, splashing his arms and legs as he was dragged just beneath the surface. His mouth was half-sunken, half-afloat. Teased with air at the same moment as being drowned, the boy could do nothing but gasp. His arms were already tired from rowing, and the oppressive heat seemed to push him down as well.

He was briefly let go, but soon enough two arms wrapped around him, encasing his torso, and pressing tight against his lungs, such that even if Sena could struggle to the top for air, he could hardly breath. The black lake water burned as it splashed into his eyes, his mouth, down his throat. He could not find purchase anywhere except for Seijuro who was lurking just too low to provide any support for Sena to breach the surface.

His vision was growing spotty. His movements were jerky yet sluggish like a water-soaked butterfly struggling to escape.

Seijuro’s warbled voiced somehow caught Sena’s ear, “Look up.”

And Sena did look up, with rabbit-wide eyes despite the brackish water, at the sunset, leached of color, and the absence of green in the forest, and the end of everything Sena had done or would do.

“It’s not an end,” Seijuro’s voice said through the black water, “but the start of all that is left to do.”

Sena’s lungs burned, a bonfire in his chest, and he knew he should not open his mouth to breath in more water, but his instincts insisted he try one last time for breath, and so he opened his mouth and breathed in water that both quenched the fire in his lungs as they stoked the flame.

And Seijuro’s arms, strong and heavy, were still wrapped tight around him, but they felt warm now as Sena was pulled deeper, and deeper still, into the black lake.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Toothbrush and Lip Gloss are my fav lighthearted drabbles, but Wolf Song and Wasteland are good for when you want angst IMO. Probs won't be updating for a lil while unless I get inspired ^^;
> 
> Also please note that in many of these drabbles, I pull lines directly from the song lyrics. If there is a similarity, it was intentional to capture the song essence and not to plagiarize.

**Familia**

Looking at Sena, he appeared to be an easy target. It had happened to him numerous times before joining football and finding his inner confidence. Still, physically, he wasn’t imposing like everyone else around him.

He usually didn’t have problems in public, except, for some reason, tonight.

Team Japan was on a late night outing. There weren’t clubs that would let them in, since they were all underage, but still the downtown district was bright in its markets and live music. Sena didn’t mean to be out so late, but he’d never been lucky with directions and was separated from the rest of the group.

He hadn’t noticed a man following him until he had crossed the street to a darker corner, and the man had set upon him.

“Hey,” the man said. He looked to be in his late twenties. Drunkenness played with the cocky tilt of his mouth. “What’s your name?” he slurred.

“M-My name?” Sena asked, holding himself tighter.

“Yeah.” The man got close enough for Sena to smell a heavy dose of alcohol on his breath. “What are you doing out here all by yourself? Not safe for someone like you. Could be mugged. Or worse.”

Sena couldn’t help recoiling back again. He started looking around, planning his escape. He was wearing loafers and the ground was rain-slick, but he still had a better shot running off than trying to deal with the man.

“I need to be going,” Sena said.

“You’re not even going to introduce yourself? There’s some really fun clubs we could go to.”

“I—I’m underage,” Sena tacked on a perfunctory, “sir.”

“That doesn’t matter to me.”

“N—I have to… I really need to be on my way…” Sena’s back pressed against a cold wall, and the man was incredibly close now.

“Now hold on.” The man laid a hand on Sena’s shoulder. It wasn’t like Kakei’s grip, practically flimsy in comparison, but it was somehow worse. Sena couldn’t move away. “Hmm,” the man leaned in.

“Step away from him,” Shin’s deep voice cut in. Sena breathed out in relief.

“Huh? This doesn’t concern you,” the man said. The man was taller than Shin by a few centimeters. He stood up to his full height in his drunken stupor.

Shin, unfazed, closed the distance between them and ripped the man’s hand off of Sena. The man stumbled back and slipped onto the sidewalk.

The man shrank under Shin’s stare. He collected himself, embarrassed, and lurched away, glancing back nervously a few times until he was out of sight.

“Are you alright, Kobayakawa?” Shin asked. He cautiously placed a hand on Sena’s shoulder, comforting if a bit unpracticed. His hand was warm and reassuring, and Sena leaned into it.

Sena took a steadying breath. Being frozen in place like that was still a bad habit from his gopher days that he was trying to overcome. He could handle himself, but it still didn’t hurt to have someone like Shin around.

“Yeah,” Sena said, looking up at Shin. “I’m okay, thank you.”

“It would be best if you stuck close until we rejoin the group.”

“Okay,” Sena said, making no move to remove Shin’s hand.

**Amerika**

Shin watched Sena’s back as he retreated back into the arms of Hiruma. Shin knew what they’d had was not meant to last, but he had forgotten in their month together.

Sena snuck a glance back at Shin, gaze searching for something.

Sena belonged to the class of the elites, belonged to Hiruma. Hiruma, sleek in a black suit and black shades, black heart. Somehow Hiruma owned Sena body and soul.

Maybe if Shin knew how to play the rich kid game, he and Sena could have had something, but he hadn’t grown up with a throne.

Still, Sena’s eyes were searching for someone. A connection. He looked out of comfort in Hiruma’s arms, alone next one of the most powerful men in the Plex.

Anger simmered in Shin’s veins due to—he didn’t know. He’d been used for something, by someone, for some purpose he couldn’t grasp. Used and discarded, and there Sena ran off into the sunrise.

**What U Need**

Sena saw Shin as many things: a teammate, a rival, a tremendous athlete. More than that, sometimes but more often now, Sena would get the sense that, somehow, Shin was alone.

Standing lone amidst group huddles. It didn’t seem to bother anyone else. Sena didn’t know how no one else could see it. How did no one else notice?

Granted, Shin wasn’t exceedingly expressive, but still: the crease between his eyebrows, the slight downturn of his mouth. They never left.

Sena wished he could get that face out of his brain. He saw it everywhere. When he went home, in his thoughts, in the shadows. Shin had a hold of Sena.

Sena decided, a few practices after that, to reach out in a way most others hadn’t to Shin and be something that Shin needed.

“Shin-san, would you like to walk to the dorms together?”

A friend.

**River**

The river was a strategic point in the war effort. It was wide enough to allow smaller steam ships to sail through and supply the inner troops. Both war participants more or less commandeered one side of the river, so crossing it was inherently forbidden.

On each side of the river were thick forests until they eventually cleared way to civilization. However, where Sena was stationed was in the thick of forest. Under the cover of night, Sena slipped from the encampment and through the trees until he reached the riverbank once more.

Crossing the river with a row boat was Seijuro, wearing the enemy’s uniform.

The current was treacherous, but Seijuro was strong and made short work of it.

Sena and Seijuro stood across from each other. They had one hour once a week. Any more could lead to suspicion of their trysts. There was so much to talk about but no time to speak.

Seijuro cradled Sena to him.

“Seijuro, I—”

“Don’t say it, don’t say it.” Seijuro clutched Sena closer.

One last kiss, one last breath together.

**Toothbrush**

The first time Sena wakes up in Shin’s dorm, he can blame it on a football social mixer that was hosted the night before to kick off the fall season. Shin’s dorm was just closer than going all the way back to Sena’s school. They shared the bed because—sleeping on the floor would have been bad for Sena’s back.

Sena gargles mouth wash while Shin brushes his teeth next to him. They use Shin’s dining hall guest pass and get breakfast together.

The second time, it’s because Sena got invited to attend a football event hosted at Oujou as a Deimon delegate. It only made sense for Sena to spend the night after the event had drawn late.

He wore Shin’s t-shirt to bed because—he didn’t want to get his nice clothes dirty. He got some weird looks by other students as he walked with Shin to get breakfast again (probably since he was wearing a wrinkled suit on a Saturday morning).

The third time Sena spends the night at Shin’s is after a long training session Shin invited him to. Just the two of them. Shin offers his dorm and Sena, truthfully, doesn’t deny the invitation with any real sort of conviction. Sena steps into the bathroom to shower for the night when he spots a second toothbrush next to Shin’s.

“I thought it prudent to get you a toothbrush since you spend nights here,” Shin says.

“Ah,” Sena says, red faced.

“You should leave some extra clothes as well.” Shin quirks his lips. “Unless you would like to continue wearing my shirts to bed. I do not mind.”

“Ahhh,” Sena says, covering his face.

Sena ends up leaving an entire overnight bag at Shin’s, which really is prudent seeing as it ends up being used every weekend from then on.

**Oh Devil**

Shin had once heard that the devil would be attractive. It had been a warning that he hadn’t cared to entertain seeing as it couldn’t possibly pertain to him and his rising ambitions in the football world.

He hadn’t known how literal the warning was.

Wearing red with devilbats on the uniform was number twenty-one. The player had caught Shin’s eye immediately as a talented, if rookie, player.

Then he had stumbled across the person underneath the uniform, and he didn’t need to see twenty-one’s face to recognize the musculature and posture as the same in the nervous boy in front of him.

But he had seen the boy’s face, and he knew, immediately, that the warnings had been right.

**Parents House**

Sena had ever known he would do something so stereotypical as to sneak in someone to his home. But it was easier this way. Shin had a sister that got home early. Sena’s dad worked late and his mom always went to bingo on Fridays.

They had finished their evening jogging, when Seijuro had asked, “Mind if I come around?”

“You don’t have to ask,” Sena says, already guiding them back to his house.

“It’s only polite,” Shin says, crowding a little closer to Sena.

Sena’s been working up the courage to tell his parents. But not yet. Not quite.

**Change Your Mind**

Painfully, it was never the right time between Sena and Shin. During high school, Sena had been unknowingly smitten with Shin. It took him a long time to realize that what he felt for the Oujou player went much further than admiration. But it didn’t take long to realize that Shin hadn’t felt the same.

By the time they attended university, Sena had moved on. But then, apparently, Shin had fallen for Sena, but never acted on it.

Now, as pros, they played on the same team, lived close to each other. They tried to ignore what they had felt before, but it was starting to show despite their efforts.

It was during a quiet moment at Shin’s house that he had asked, “If I had a chance, would you let me know?”

**Heavy Shoulders**

Sena slept peacefully next to Shin. Shin couldn’t fall asleep. It had been their first time. After four months of going slow for Shin’s sake, they’d had sex in Sena’s dorm room.

Shin had been a virgin. Sena wasn’t.

Shin had wondered about Sena’s previous lovers—he knew most of them, other accomplished players from their cohort—and why they went away.

Shin couldn’t relate. He couldn’t see any reason not to be with Sena. Still, he did feel a devilish voice whisper in his ear things that caused jealousy to flare in his stomach. It was hard to fight that feeling, like heavy shoulders, but he knew the truth.

Sena loved him, and that alone was enough to ease his worries.

**Lip Gloss**

“Huh, that doesn’t seem like a trick that would work,” Sakuraba says, frowning.

“It appears that Hiruma might just be farming blackmail material,” Takami replies.

On the field, most of the Deimon players are sporting unflattering lipstick smeared onto their lips. The cheerleaders can’t stop laughing long enough to help apply the makeup better on some of the truly unfortunate looking guys.

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Sakuraba says. “What do you think, Shin?”

Sakuraba and Takami turn to Shin.

“Are you… okay?” Sakuraba asks.

“Shin?” Takami waves a hand in front of Shin’s face, but not even that breaks the other’s concentration. Takami follows Shin’s line of sight.

He’s hyper-focused on Sena. But his eyes look more intent than usual, and he also hasn’t said anything at all. His fist is pressed tight against his mouth.

“Oh, my,” Takami says. His eyebrows are raised all the way to his hairline.

“What? What is happening?” Sakuraba is looking more concerned by the moment.

“I think _something_ might have been awakened in Shin.”

Sakuraba whips his head from Shin to Sena several times. He has to admit, Sena doesn’t look tragic with the product on. The color is somewhat flattering. Then it clicks in Sakuraba’s head. “Oh. _Oh_.”

“Yeah. Oh.” Takami clears his throat. “Hiruma must really know what he’s doing.”


End file.
